


Thing

by Moon6Shadow



Series: Poetry and Short Stories [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Autism, Autistic Character, Gen, Poetry, Writing Prompt, actually autistic, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 18:11:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon6Shadow/pseuds/Moon6Shadow
Summary: Prompt from oopsprompts on tumblr:“Why do you do that?”“Do what?”“Talk about yourself like you’re some kind of … thing.”





	Thing

_“Why do you do that?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Talk about yourself like you’re some kind of … thing.”_

_Ze freezes mid motion,_

_Before slowly putting the box down._

_Then takes two quick steps_

_Towards the rest of the items,_

_They are compiling into boxes._

_The pages tap against the table as Ze straightens them,_

_Head bowed,_

_Brow furrowed in concentration_

_But they’re not concentrating on the papers._

_You’ve seen this before, this absentminded shuffling,_

_This, this..._

_You’re not quite sure what it is but it’s different_

_Ze rarely looks at people except for when they do_

_While a bright smile paints their face_

_Automatic, artificial, unconscious_

_Like a switch turning on_

_Except the lights on but nobody's home,_

_Already shifting, already gone._

_Except,_

_Except sometimes the lights truly turn on_

_And they babble,_ _they shine,_

_They talk a million miles an hour_

_And trip over their words._

_Sometimes they light up the world._

_Ze shrugs,_

_“_ _Sometimes it’s easier, less painful._

_Just to be who they picture me to be."_

_That’s a lie._

_You know that,_

_Know that deep down to your bones._

_You’ve felt that,_

_Felt that agony of being emotionless_

_Because They said you couldn’t feel anything,_

_As if that meant it didn’t hurt._

_The agony of feeling everything_

_And nothing at all._

_Robot, robot, robot,_

_Sticks and stones._

_They fall,_

_Pebbles that make ripples,_

_Tears on the bathroom floor._

_You’re not sure when you moved,_

_Not sure where the bile came from_

_But you choke on it._

_On the bitterness that spills from your throat,_

_Broken screams and nothing at all._

_Ze smiles,_

_Broken, broken, broken,_

_Wrong, wrong, wrong._

_“Doesn’t it feel better not to hurt?_

_To not feel alone anymore?”_

_But it /doesn’t/_

_You feel wrong,_

_Twisted, empty, full,_

_Screaming, silent, all at once_

_So torn up you don’t know what your feeling_

_Yet at the same time feeling nothing at all._

_This glass wall shutting the world out,_

_This glass wall holding your emotions down,_

_Down, down deep out of sight_

_So you can’t even see them anymore_

_So you can’t /understand/ them any more._

_You scream,_

_You scream and scream and scream_

_But no words come out,_

_No blood, no bile_

_Only broken worn out bike tires._

_A unbreakable frame that isn’t unbreakable at all._

_They gave you a new one_

_Because life time warranties don’t run out._

_Bits and pieces bound together_

_You call it Frankenstein._

_It becomes your wings._

_Your inner voice,_

_Your vanished tics and stims,_

_The things they took,_

_The things you buried deep,_

_Deep, deep down_

_Until you didn’t notice them anymore._

 

_Until you didn’t notice_

_When your body screamed_

_In a language you didn’t speak anymore._

_The language you forgot,_

_The language you buried,_

_The language they told you didn’t exist at all,_

_The language you smothered,_

_The language that you blamed for the hurt_

_The pain_

_The language you saw as wrong_

_Because society told you it was._

_Ze, Ze,_

_Standing in a cracked mirror_

_That smiles back at you_

_Before shattering at your shaking feet._

_Bile swallowed back down your throat._

_“Why do you do that?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Talk about yourself like you’re some kind of .... thing?”_

_“Because they said I was, but I’m not listening anymore.”_

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Saw this just after reading 'My Autism Doesn't Make Me a Robot' by Jack Howes on Vice. Ze freezing at the beginning is literally me when I read that prompt and went '.....oh shit. We're doing this? Okay we're doing this. I have no idea what I am going to write or rather I have too much to say and no idea how I'm going to write it. Eek.'


End file.
